


Knapp-Shappey Residence

by onedaymytardiswillcome



Category: Cabin Pressure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 21:00:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onedaymytardiswillcome/pseuds/onedaymytardiswillcome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin's in a spot of bother. Truths come out, dogs are walked and it's time for Summer Christmas</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Welcome home Golf Tango India,' Carl's voice crackled through the coms system. 'Point plane at stand and Taxi like you're in New York!'

'Carl! Please use professional aviation language only.' Martin chastised the Tower for what felt like the millionth time.

'Alright, alright, Rodger that. Keep your overly large hat on!'

It had been, for MJN, a quiet trip out to India. There had been no passengers so there was very little to go wrong in fairness. Arthur had tried his utmost as always, however. The 'Strawberry alert' had been one of the worst in history. Martin leaned back in his seat and sighed. It had been a very long flight.

Douglas yawned as he pulled Gerti up to her stand, 'I want a shower, some lunch and bed. Soon.' Martin chuckled and nodded his agreement. 'Oh,' Douglas continued. 'Titanic...free Willy.'

Martin burst out laughing as the door to the flight deck crashed open and Arthur galumphed in, 'Hi Chaps! Brilliant trip wasn't it!'

'When is a trip, in your opinion, not Brilliant Arthur?' Douglas sighed as he stood, stretched and reached for his flight bag. 'Recovered from the Strawberry alert then?'

Arthur beamed, 'Yep, sorry about that chaps, I didn't realise...'

'That strawberry milkshake would have strawberries in.' Douglas finished the sentence for him. 'No your wouldn't, would you.'

As Martin stood, a thought occurred to him, 'When Harry met...Paul.'

Douglas nodded, 'Yes, you can have that one. Certainly better than your last attempts.' Martin looked pleased with himself. As always with their games, Douglas had been much better at 'Merged film titles' than he had.

As if to emphasise this point, Douglas stopped in the door way to the flight deck and said, 'The Desolation of ...Ghandi.'

Martin rolled his eyes as he too grabbed his flight bag and followed Douglas out of the plane. They heard Carolyn yell at Arthur to 'start hovering!' as they made their way across the tarmac to the glorified shed of an office.

'Doing anything with the week off then Martin?' Douglas asked as they entered the porta cabin and each went to their separate lockers.

'What, no nothing, why do you ask?' snapped the Captain, his shoulders instantly tensing.

'Sorry, how rude of me to ask...' Douglas turned to hang up his jacket.

'Sorry,' Martin mumbled an apology. Placing his hat carefully in its allocated place in his locker he asked, 'Are you?'

Douglas gave a rare warm smile, 'Off to Cumbria to spend a few days with Zoe.' Martin noticed the First Officers gaze fall upon the slightly crumpled picture of a beaming little girl tapped to the inside of his locker. He noticed Martin watching and his face regained its usual superior sneer, 'Want a lift home?'

'No, but thank you,' Martin was taken aback. 'That's very generous. But I have to stay here; paperwork to do and all.'

The door to the porta cabin whooshed open and Carolyn stamped in, 'Not more paper work Martin! Every time I have seen you recently you have been doing bloody paper work. Even you cannot be more organised than is physically possible.'

Martin sat stiffly in the arm chair that Douglas has insisted for the 'office' and pulled his log book towards him. 'I won't be long Carolyn; I just want to finish this first. A good pilot is an organised one.'

Carolyn gave him a pitting look, 'Do what you will, but please go home and enjoy the time off soon. God know, I won't.' Both pilots gave her a quizzical look. 'I am going to be tutoring idiot boy about maths. Remember, his business exam is in two weeks.'

'Good God, that sounds awful!' Douglas exclaimed. 'Well have fun, try not to kill him or drown in over enthusiasm. See you in a week.'

As Douglas moved towards the door, shrugging on his coat, Carolyn called out, 'Now just a second First Officer Richardson, I heard you offering out lifts a moment ago. Arthur and I will take you up on that. Thank you kindly.'

Douglas started muttering about the offer not standing for someone's house which was twenty miles in the wrong direction but soon gave up as Carolyn bundled her and Arthurs over night bags on to him with a 'off you trot.' He sighed, waved at Martin and ducked out of the cabin, followed by Carolyn who called for Arthur as they walked across the tarmac.

'Monsters...fight club,' Martin muttered to himself, his grin fading fast. Well, had better get sorted, he thought to himself as, the same as every night for the last three weeks that he hadn't been abroad, he pulled out the duvet he kept in his locker and settled in for a night in the cabin.

Martin had been kicked out of his flat three weeks ago when he, finally and inevitably, failed to keep up with the rent. The embarrassment of telling anybody had lead him to sleep at the airfield, carefully covering his tracks every morning, and making up excuses for being in early and staying late. He would have to do something soon he knew, otherwise Carolyn would find out. A few more days; he just couldn't face his mother's pity or Simon's muttered, 'I told you so,' yet. He ran a hand through his short ginger hair sighing. Then gave himself a shake and turned to put the kettle on.

After an exciting supper of cup-a-soup Martin changed and then curled up in the arm chair. Luckily Douglas kept a rather large selection of books in the cabin for when they were on stand; Martin had now made his way through most of them. Wolf Hall was on the cards tonight. He snuggled up in the duvet and glanced around. The cabin had been fine for the last three weeks when they had been away most nights on jobs but now he faced four empty days alone. It wasn't even as though he afford to go and do things. Unhappiness weighed down on him like gravity on Gerti, and he struggled not to cry. He imagined Douglas happy with his daughter and Carolyn and Arthur arguing about maths at home and felt terribly, terribly alone. He fell asleep, curled catlike, in the arm chair, the light still on and the book folded open in his lap.

Martin never got the four days alone he had envisaged. In fact he bearly got twelve hours. He was woken, horribly abruptly the next morning by the lock turning in the door and a crash as Carolyn entered.

'Got your mother in a whirl...oh, BLOODY HELL MARTIN.' Carolyn almost fell over in surprise, screaming when she discovered her Captain asleep in her office. Martin jumped up, scared out of his wits and still half asleep. He rubbed his face.

'Oh, er, ah. Hello Carolyn. Just, um doing some early morning paperwork.'

Carolyn, one hand over her heart, the other still clutching the door handle, exhaled and then looked at Martin, here eyebrows raised, 'Cut the crap Martin; you are nearly as bad at lying as Arthur. What the hell are you doing sleeping in my Office?'

Martin looked around frantically, trying to think of an excuse. He floundered; his arms wind milling as he racked his brains. Then, quite suddenly all the fight went out of him and he deflated back into the arm chair. Unable to look at his boss he put his head in his hands and mumbled, 'Igotchuckedoutofmyflat...'

Carolyn strained forwards to hear him, 'what?'

'I got kicked out of my flat. I am homeless. I have no where to live. I cannot think of another way to say it!' He looked up straight at Carolyn for a second to gauge her reaction. When her face didn't move a muscle, he flopped his own face back down, inspecting the carpet. Martin expected his boss to be furious. After all, sleeping at the airfield was hardly 'by the book.' He did not expect her to talk to him in the soft, kindly voice that was normally reserved solely for her son.

'Why didn't you tell me, Martin?'

He shrugged. 'Well, it's embarrassing isn't it. And, well what would you do. And I didn't want Douglas to know. I can fix it anyway. Not that I'm sure how,' He couldn't stop now. Something in Carolyn's tone had finally broken his stiff upper lipped resolve. 'They even took Dad's van as extra payment, so it's not like I can even make any money.' He could feel tears building in the corners of his eyes. Not now! Martin scrubbed angrily at his face. There was a moments silence in which Martin didn't dare look up. But then there was a gentle hand on his shoulder and Carolyn had sat on the arm of the chair.

'Idiot boy,' she said, but ever so gently. 'You should have told me, Martin.'

Before Martin could reply, he felt a gentle hand on the nape of his neck, rubbing his hairline gently in a way only his mother had ever done before.

'I'll go, of course,' he mumbled when he could trust his voice not to crack. 'I am sorry, Carolyn, I know it's totally unprofessional...I just didn't know where else to go.' Martin trailed off sadly and then stood to collect his things before he broke down entirely in front of his boss.

Carolyn sat very still for a moment a funny expression on her face as though a fierce battle was raging internally. She pressed her hands together, sighed and said rather quickly,' get your things and follow me.'

Martin froze halfway through pulling his battered jacket on over his pyjamas, 'What?'

Carolyn spoke very slowly, 'Martin, I may be a grumpy old bat (and this is the only time you will ever hear me admit that) but I am damned if I am going to let you sleep here or out in the cold.' Her voice softened and she placed a hand gently on this shoulder, 'face your family when you are ready.' Her voice regained its usual tone as she bustled around the office collecting his things, 'not forever, mind. And you will pull your weight!'

Martin nodded hastily and pulled on his shoes smiling ever so slightly as he raced after Carolyn to the car. Maybe the next four days wouldn't be as bad as he had feared.


	2. Chapter 2

This is BRILLIANT, Skip.' Each word Arthur yelled was punctuated by a little jump. Martin smiled at him but it was forced; he was yet to make it inside the house and was thus being pelted by summer rain. Arthur finally noticed the downpour, 'oh, sorry,' and stepped aside, flinging his arm out to gesture that Martin should follow. Martin stepped gratefully inside, pleased that Arthur had stopped enthusing at him for one moment.

'I'm just so excited!' Arthur was already down the far end of the corridor with a box of Martin's belongings in his arms. Martin looked around as he removed his, now soaking, shoes. The house was massive, much bigger than he was used to, and tastefully decorated. Big, wooden furniture dominated every room and it was unfrilly. It still felt homely though. There were hints of Arthur everywhere from shoes piled untidily in the hall to his MJN steward's hat balanced on the banister. Every surface was covered in pictures, mostly of Arthur beaming throughout his childhood. There were some of Carolyn as well, usually being dwarfed by her son, both in their uniforms in some sunny location or other.

Suddenly Martin found himself being tripped up by something small, fury and yappy.

'Oh, hello Snupadop,' He said, tickling the dog behinds it's ears.

'Come on Skip!' Arthur whined, picking up the yappy dog with one hand. 'I need to give you the tour!'

Carolyn rolled her eyes at Martin and disappeared into what he could only assume was the kitchen. He was given no chance to find out for certain before he was whisked off on the tour by Arthur. He was show the sitting room, the dining room, laundry room ('I'm not allowed to use the washing machine any more though'), Arthur's kitchen and bed room and the goldfish. 'That's Mum and Herk's...' but Arthur broke off blushing and Martin pretended to be very interested in the curtains for a moment. His favourite room was definitely Arthurs. Spacious and full of beanbags and other comfy chairs, it was decorated by a small army of model planes that all hung on string from the ceiling.

Arthur blushed again when Martin complimented them. 'Thanks. I made them all myself, with some help from Mum.' The room was even painted blue so, with the window open letting in a breeze, the planes really did seem to be flying.

'LUNCH!' The shout reverberated around the house and Arthur turned as though on a lead.

'Coming Mum!'

Martin had never seen Carolyn looking so domestic as he entered the kitchen. She was stood over a boiling pot of what turned out to be homemade chicken soup, an apron on and a ladle in her hand.

'Thought you could do with fattening up Martin.' She said as she placed a steaming bowl down in front of him. Martin smiled and nodded; his diet of cuppa soup and baked beans had not left him feeling at his most healthy. Arthur beamed at him again, a roll covered in soup dripping in one hand.

'How long are you staying for then Skip?'

Martin smiled back and glanced at Carolyn, 'That's really not up to me to decide Arthur. Your Mum is being very kind in letting me stay here, but it's only for a bit.'

Arthur's face fell, but then it lit up again as a thought struck him. He turned in his seat to where his mother was dishing out a bowl of soup for herself. 'He has to stay at least two days, Mum!'

Carolyn looked quizzically at her son as she came towards the table and sat down.

'Summer Christmas!' Prompted Arthur.

'Oh, God. It's the 23rd today isn't it?' Carolyn sighed. 'The 25th is Summer Christmas,' She explained to Martin's quizzical look. 'Yes, Arthur, I suppose Martin will still be here for that.'

'Brilliant.'

Martin whiled away the rainy afternoon playing Guess Who with Arthur and then reading his 'Top Tips for Aviation' book for the 5th time while Arthur had to go off to revise with Carolyn. He couldn't suppress a laugh hearing Carolyn trying to explain 'quarterly intakes' and 'gross profit' to her son in terms of number of Apples. 'You have to speculate to accumulate, Arthur. So companies might give out apples in the hope that they will get more apples in return as the people they give apples to will grow apple trees...'

'But Mum, wouldn't they just eat the apples?'

'You have to hope not, dear. You just have to trust them to give you something back.'

'But that's silly.'

'I know and I'm sure that you and George Osborn would have much to discuss. But for now please just trust me, Arthur!'

That evening Martin was so exhausted that he passed on watching Die Hard 4 ('the best one!') with Arthur to get an early night. As he padded along the hallway to the bathroom, he glanced through Arthur's open door and something caught his eye. Checking up and down the corridor, he went inside the room to the desk by the window. On it was a framed photograph. With a jolt and a smile, Martin realised it was the one Carolyn had taken of her 'victorious boys' when they had just returned from St Petersburg. The three men were all posing in front of the newly repaired Gerti, beaming. Well, Douglas was smiling sardonically but the intention was there. Arthur was crouched in front of the two pilots, his tie askew, Martin's captain's hat balanced on his head. They all looked so joyful, like a very funny sort of family. Sighing, Martin replaced the photo and turned to leave. He jumped a mile when he found Carolyn watching him from the door way. But she was smiling.

Reassured, he mumbled, 'nice photo...'

'Yes, it is rather.' She sighed and shook her head,' you three will be the death of me.'

Martin, slept brilliantly that night. It certainly made a change from either strange hotel rooms or the sofa in the cabin. Never-the-less, stuck in Indian time, he awoke at four in the morning, unable to get back to sleep. Eventually he gave in and went in search of a cup of tea. As he approached the kitchen, he noticed the light was on. He paused to flatten his hair and then, expecting Carolyn, turned through the door way. He nearly fell over in surprise. There, cup of tea in hand, leaning against the counter as though he was just always there was

'Herk?'

Hercules Shipwright may have even been more surprised than Martin. 'Good, God, Martin! What the hell are you doing here?'

Martin nearly blurted out, 'well I could ask you the same thing', but luckily even his sleepy brain realised that this would not be the best idea. 'I, er. Um, staying with Carolyn for a few days until...until my flat gets sorted.' He was rather pleased when Herk didn't press the matter; he couldn't face being totally truthful with the senior Captain. Martin motioned at the kettle behind the older man that was still steaming gently and the older man passed it over.

Herk coughed nervously, 'I am just, um, stopping over too. You know, my house is so far from the airport and all...'

Martin thought it best not to mention that Swiss Airways didn't ever fly into Fitton. Both men blew awkwardly onto their tea. 'Well I had best get back to...' the laughed, having spoken in the same instant.

Herk nodded, 'yes of course.'

'Well.' Martin waved vaguely through the kitchen door and back to his room. 'See you in the morning then.'

Had Martin still been awake ten minutes later he would have heard the tell tale noise of Carolyn's door that creaked despite the best efforts of Hercules Shipwright.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day at breakfast they all pointedly ignored the fact that Herk was also there and, in fact after ten minutes or so, it rather stopped being awkward. Martin enjoyed the easy banter among them that he missed in his student flat. From the joking and comments, he gauged that Herk stayed over rather a lot; most nights that he wasn't flying in fact but he didn't say anything. It was strange, but not unpleasant to see Carolyn relaxed and smiling rather than tight lipped and worried about him and Douglas bankrupting her before tea time. After Martin had cleared away breakfast (very conscious of 'pulling his weight') Arthur suggested a nice summer walk with Snupadop.

'Be as long as you like!' came the call from the front room when Arthur asked if Carolyn would like to join them, so the two men set off alone. The area around Carolyn's house was gentle rolling English country side so the walk was lovely but not taxing. Most of the time Arthur and his Skipper walked side by side in comfortable silence, with Arthur speaking to give direction occasionally. They came to a lake that Snuperdop dived into gratefully (it was a hot summer's day) and they sat down on the bank, pleased for a rest.

Martin turned to Arthur, whose eyes were closed, enjoying the sunshine, 'Why are you doing this business exam anyway Arthur? You don't need it for MJN.'

'No, but Mum thought it might be good anyway.' Arthur picked up a blade of grass and ran it through his fingers. 'And, well she says, I might need it if I want to work anywhere else...'

Martin was baffled, 'Why would you ever want to work somewhere else?'

'Well, I wouldn't want to.' Arthur cleared his throat awkwardly. 'But I might have to. You know, if Douglas or you ever...'

'...Leave.' Martin finished the sentence for him. 'I see.'

Arthur hurriedly said, 'Which would be fine. Because Mum says that even you are too good for MJN and shouldn't stay forever. And I will be fine I am sure there is loads of Brilliant stuff I could do...'

But Martin could tell that, for once Arthur's enthusiasm was forced. At that moment Snupadop came a shook her coat all over them, sparing the awkward moment. They didn't mention the exam again that walk. Instead the whiled away the time playing 'yellow flower' and reminiscing about adventures they had enjoyed.

When they got home Carolyn came marching out of the sitting room and even the inexperienced Carolyn watcher could have spotted that she was at a force nine at least. 'Arthur, go and do some work.' She held up her hand as Arthur tired to object, 'DO NOT argue! Go.' Arthur ran off in the direction of the kitchen.

Carolyn rounded on Martin. 'A word. NOW!' Martin was terrified and genuinely couldn't think what he could have done wrong, but he dutifully followed Carolyn upstairs. When they got to the spare room, Carolyn marched towards the bed, and turned a piece of paper in her hand. Martin heart sank and he recognised the letter from Swiss Air. His acceptance letter.

'Ah, now Carolyn,' He ran a hand nervously through his hair. 'I was going to...hang on! That was in my bag!'

It was Carolyn's turn to look slightly embarrassed 'yes, well, it fell out when I moved you stuff to tidy.' She looked at Martin's doubtful expression. 'Honestly! And anyway that's not what this is about. Why the hell didn't you tell me?'

Martin stood awkwardly in the doorway. 'I was going to tell you and then...well, it was too hard and scary and. Well I don't think I am going to leave anyway.'

'That's what I am worried about Martin.' Carolyn was nearly shouting now. 'This is brilliant and you have to leave!' She waved the letter in his face. 'You were never even going to tell me that you got the offer were you, you idiot boy! For God's sake Martin, you have to leave.' The last words came out strangled and Carolyn fought to control herself.

Martin straightened his back, 'No Carolyn. No I don't.'

Carolyn sighed and then sat on the edge of the bed, her anger abating into resignation, 'Oh Martin, stop being such a fool.' She passed a hand over her face. 'This is an amazing offer and one that you are not likely to get again. You have to take it. Bugger us. Just think of yourself. I mean,' she gestured vaguely in his direction, 'look at yourself. You are homeless, jobless, moneyless...'

'Yes, thank you Carolyn. As much as I do love having my current predicament pointed out to me- that will do.'

'But Martin, this would solve all that. This is a proper job, with a proper salary and chanced of promotions.' She trailed off, gazing up at him.

Martin took a deep breath and then said what he knew he had to, finally making the decision he had known, ever since he got the job, he would make; 'I am not going to accept the job.' Silence hung in the room so long that Martin was forced to plough on.

'I know it is probably the wrong decision. Who am I kidding; it is definitely the wrong decision financially. But, I really don't have a choice.'

Carolyn held up a hand, 'Martin if you are about to start spouting about morals and how you need to stay for 'all our sakes' then I swear on everything...'

Martin cut across her, 'I do need to stay for you Carolyn yes. It is the truth so I will say it. Without me the company will fold and I am just not happy to be responsible for that. Douglas will be fine, he always is, but you and, more importantly Arthur, need me to fly. Don't try and prove me otherwise.'

Carolyn's voice was very quiet, 'that is...that is very kind of you Martin. But I simply cannot be responsible for you making this decision. We will fold eventually, we all know that. You staying simply postpones the inevitable. Take the job.'

'I may well only postpone it, yes, but there is another reason too Carolyn. If you don't like the moral approach then hear this,' Martin walked further into the room, closer to Carolyn and spoke loudly and clearly, 'I need to stay...for me.' Carolyn's head shot up. Martin smiled quietly at her, 'in the words of Arthur; what could I do that it more fun than getting to go up in Gerti the whole time with you lot.' Martin looked severely at her. 'Never, ever tell Douglas this, but it makes me happy, flying with you and if there is one thing I want to be in life, it's not money, or a house, I want to be happy.'

Carolyn simply gazed at him open mouthed. She opened and closed her mouth several times then stood, pressed the letter into Martin's chest and walked slowly out of the room without saying another word. Martin fell onto the bed and groaned into the pillow, 'bloody hell!'


	4. Chapter 4

Martin decided to hide in the spare room for the rest of the afternoon. Arthur knocked at some point but he feigned sleep, and was eventually left alone. He was pleased that Carolyn finally knew about his offer from Swiss Air and also that he had finally admitted that he could never leave MJN, but the timing and situation had been far from perfect. He was checking his diary for the next flying week, planning when to sleep etc, when the door banged open and Herk walked in, unannounced.

Martin scrambled from the bed, 'Herk! What...?'

But Hercules simply held up a hand, 'Carolyn wants you and, if you know what's good for you, be quick.' He left, leaving Martin to trot after him down the stairs. Arthur was stood in the hallway downstairs, beaming, Snupadop clutched under one arm. The front door stood open.

'Arthur, what's going on?' But Arthur simply beamed more widely and gestured for Martin to go through the door. He ducked though and there, on the drive, with Carolyn leaning on the bonnet, was...

'My Dad's van!' Martin stopped dead, taken completely by surprise. What ever he had expected, it wasn't that. Carolyn smiled widely at him and tossed him the keys.

'My gift.'

'But Carolyn...'

'My Gift!' she repeated more firmly. Martin stood gazing at her. She ploughed on quickly, 'if you stay, I am not going to pay you as such; you know that is impossible, but from now on you will get enough to cover your rent each month. The van?' She shrugged and walked towards him, patting him gently on the shoulder as she passed and whispered, 'that is my thank you to you.' She kissed him gently on the cheek. Martin simply stood gazing at the van for a very long time until he was called into dinner by, an ever excitable, Arthur.

Martin fell asleep with a smile on his face that night, his van keys still clutched tightly in his fist, cutting into his skin. However, it seemed that no sooner had he fallen asleep than he was woken up by a hand shaking his shoulder.

'Skip. Skip' a voice whispered in his ear. Sleepily Martin opened his eyes and nearly had a heart attack. Arthur's face was about an inch from his own in the faint dawn light.

'wha! Bugger me, Arthur!' Martin shot away from him across the bed, sitting up and rubbing sleep from his eyes.

Arthur stood up, framed against the window, 'Sorry, Martin, I didn't mean to scare you. Just...well happy Summer Christmas.'

Martin was still breathing heavily as he reached out and took the small box from Arthur's hands. It was badly wrapped in brown paper with blue ribbon tied around it twice. Martin caught his breath and then said, 'it's fine. Just made me jump is all. The second Shappy to nearly kill me in three days. Sit down.' He gestured at the end of his bed and Arthur jumped in gleefully. Martin had meant 'perch politely on the end' but Arthur leapt straight under the covers, pulling the duvet up to his chin so that he and Martin were top to tail. As Martin leaned back against the head board to unwrap his gift he caught sight of the clock.

'Arthur! It's half past four in the morning.'

Arthur grinned sheepishly at him, 'Sorry, I was just so excited. I have been working on your present for ages. And Mum got to give you one yesterday so...' He trailed off and looked at Martin expectantly.

'But I don't have anything for you.'

Arthur waved his hand, batting Martin away, 'that doesn't matter. Unwrap it!' He was practically bouncing, so Martin complied.

Very carefully, he pulled the ribbon away and unstuck the sticky tape, folding back the paper. Inside was a box about 5 by 7 inches. Remembering other things Arthur had made in the past, it was with some trepidation that Martin opened the box. But, when he did, he let out a low 'ohhh' of surprise and looked up at Arthur wide eyed. 'Did you make this?'

Arthur nodded shyly, as Martin pulled an exact replica Lockheed McDonnell 312 out of the box. Arthur had even painted the letters G.E.R.T.I carefully on the side and M.J.N on the tail.

'It's...' At a loss for any other word, Martin settled for simply, 'Brilliant!'

Arthur yawned, 'thought...you...could hang it in...the frontofyourvan...'

Martin held the model very carefully in his hands. 'Seriously, Arthur; thank you.'

But when the pilot looked up Arthur had fallen fast asleep at the other end of the bed, his breathing heavy and regular. Very carefully Martin lent across and placed the model plane on the bed side table and then slid down, next to Arthur, back under the covers.

Gentle morning sunlight shone on the snoring steward and Martin nodded slightly to himself. With the sun coming up, Arthur next to him, his van outside, and facing the model Lockheed McDonnell Martin fell back to sleep, a massive grin plastered onto his face- leave MJN? Never.


End file.
